


Thievery (goes by a different name)

by orphan_account



Series: Fill the Void [21]
Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, Fake AH Crew, FakeHaus, Fluff, Kleptomania, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23462860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gavin is known for his sticky hands, but no one ever thought there was a reason as to why he did the things he did.
Relationships: Adam Kovic/Elyse Willems/James Willems, Jeremy Dooley/Gavin Free/Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones/Jack Pattillo/Geoff Ramsey
Series: Fill the Void [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663750
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Thievery (goes by a different name)

Gavin was known by the crew to have sticky fingers. It was how he got noticed by Geoff and Jack and eventually hired into a little criminal empire. He could certainly put his skills to good use, and he was lifting wallets from more important people. CEOs, celebrities, politicians. If he wanted to, he could fill up a bathtub with the amount of money he could lift and swim in it. (That had been a dream of his. And if he wanted to, he could it. He could …)

If you ever went into his room, you’d find a veritable magpie’s nest of trinkets. They held some sort of monetary value. He’d gotten selective of what he could swipe. Something that always caught his eye. He had a box of Rolex watches under his bed, specific boxes for every type of jewelry, and a pile of wallets he had yet to touch that usually sat on a pile in a chair or on his dresser. And for the most part, this didn’t bother anyone. No one in the crew cared. Sometimes they’d ask him if they could pawn some jewelry because for some reason they were out of cash and needed a quick hundred.

“How are you out of money _again_?” he asked.

Michael and Jeremy both shrugged.

“Bad investments,” Jeremy said.

“Crashed my car and the other got stolen,” Michael said.

It was all _whatever_ , really. It wasn’t like Gavin couldn’t get more.

But.

The caveat was he wasn’t just a good pickpocket.

No.

He just happened to have kleptomaniac tendencies that just happened to be perceived as pickpocketing.

It was a habit of his. An unaddressed compulsion to slip something in his pocket for no other reason than he felt compelled to do it. It was never given a name as a kid, but when he came to the crew, the rest of them started to notice his habits and realize it wasn’t just sticky fingers.

Sometimes, he’d slip things from the others while they were on a job, in the penthouse, whenever that feeling of ‘what if I just put that in my pocket’ struck him. And they didn’t think much of it first. They just thought it was a quirk of his. Like how Ryan always wore a mask and had a dramatic flair for face paint.

(Theatre kid that he was.)

So sometimes Michael would find his brass knuckles missing. They were more of a thing to have than he actually used. He knew what damage they could actually do. But he liked the feel of them. They felt good, the solid metal between his fingers, and then one day they weren’t in his coat pocket like they usually were when they were heading out into the city for the night.

“Hey. Where are my knuckles at?”

“On your hand?” Jack said.

“Oh, ha ha. No. Seriously. They should be in a picket. Where are they now?”

It took a few hours for Michael to find them eventually, and he found them in the back seat of a car when they were getting out of it. Gavin slipped out of the back seat and out from his back pocket came the brass knuckles.

“Gavin,” he said. “Where did you get these?”

“Oh, I must’ve found them lying around earlier. Slipped my mind I guess.”

Michael didn’t really trust him, but he wasn’t going to start something.

It happened again when Geoff noticed a specific set of cuff links were missing. They were going to go to a fancy gala to parous out potential hits, and he was reaching for his cufflinks from a side table in the entertainment room of the penthouse. He had put them there for a moment while he fiddled with his tie and when he went back to grab them, he found them (mysteriously) missing.

Gavin was the closest, sat on the couch on his phone.

“Gav, have you seen my cufflinks?”

“Your what now?”

“Cufflinks. You know. The ones that are diamonds.”

“Not recently.”

Only he had because two weeks later Geoff found them when he barged into Gavin’s room to ask him a question.

“Wait, are those my—those are my cufflinks! Where did you find though?”

“Oh. Yeah, I just found them in my pocket one day. Didn’t know how they got there.”

And usually, this wasn’t a problem. They could handle it even if they didn’t understand sometimes and were exasperated with it. But they worked with it because, well, this was a part of who Gavin was. They weren’t going to try and make things worse for him or try to drag this out. So they didn’t really address it. But they acknowledge it and tried to rein him in whenever they knew it was a bad idea. Like stealing from one of the crew is okay. Eventually it made its way back to the original owner. But stealing from a rival crew or a potential hit was not.

They had this long running relationship, feud, rivalry thing going on with another crew nearly on the same level they were on. They called themselves Gunhaus. They were eccentric to a degree. They had some fun, interesting people working for him—most notably the dynamic trio of the Willemses (a husband and wife duo) and what Geoff affectionately referred to as their boy toy. Kovic. A quiet character who seemed like he was mostly the muscle of the group, but was actually one of their front men. He wouldn’t say much except what he meant to on their jobs and you had to give the guy credit. He could handle himself just fine.

So sometimes they got together and would do jobs with each other, exchange information, and split funds. Usually things were amicable. There were hangouts and inside jokes and pranks that probably went too far, followed by months of inactivity, some sort of apology even if it wasn’t with words.

One time a few of them were together, cleaning up after a job—Gavin, Michael, and Adam. They were at some house Geoff owned. One of the many properties he had around the city for convenience when they needed to lie low, and Adam was at the kitchen sink, washing his hands to remove any grease from the cars they lifted. He wore a ring. This thick, silver ring with a gold strip running around it. It was lying on the counter next to the sink, a little bit dirty on its own. But it was still particularly fetching.

“You got a towel?” Adam asked.

Gavin looked around and reached for the nearest dish towel. “Uh, sure.” He handed off to Adam, and when they were all sufficiently clean, they ordered takeout and waited until the coast was clear to leave and head back to their proper lives.

The call came an hour later, and soon Geoff was hunting down Gavin.

“Give it back,” he said, looking extremely exasperated.

“Give what back?” Gavin asked as he sprawled out on one of the couches in the entertainment room of the penthouse.

“The ring, you idiot. I know you took it. Kovic is asking for it. Give it back.”

“You’re even wearing it!” Ryan said, hand out in Gavin’s direction and Gavin took a notice of his hand.

“Look at that. I am.”

“God, we need to have a serious talk about this later,” Geoff said. “Because I am going nuts with you right now.”

But Adam didn’t take it hard. Once they knew where it was, he showed up on his own, completely unphased as Gavin handed the ring back.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Sometimes I just, you now. Something shiny.”

Adam nodded and slipped the ring back on his finger. “I get it. I honestly lose this all the time, so I’m surprised I didn’t just leave it at the house. I’m thinking of a tattoo as a replacement.”

“Well, if you do, feel free to, uh, leave that around.”

“You’ll be the first person I call.”


End file.
